Darling Mafia: Book Blitz
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Darling Mafia: Book Blitz

Laura
As I sit across from the four Kutsenko brothers, I press my lips together to keep from drooling. No four men should be so strikingly handsome. Not all from the same family, anyway. I fight a valiant battle against letting my gaze drift toward the eldest, Maksim, whose ice-blue eyes bore into me. After years of negotiating billion-dollar investment contracts while facing countless ruthless businessmen, I’ve learned to keep my expression studiously blank. But it’s a true struggle today. Instead, I focus my attention on the squirrelly lawyer sitting across the conference table. While he’s disingenuous with each comment, he’s a good negotiator. But I’m better. How cliché am I?
While I feel Maksim watching me, I focus on Dmitry Yakovitch as he continues to argue the merits of the venture capitalist company I represent, RK Capital Group, merging with Kutsenko Partners. What he means is the merits of Kutsenko Partners acquiring RK Capital Group, then stripping it and making it another money-laundering shell corporation. While most people in New York have little awareness of the Russian mafia, I do. The Kutsenko brothers’ names appear on no titles or deeds anywhere in New York City, but it wasn’t difficult to determine which shell companies likely belong to them. Their assumption that I’m unfamiliar with them is proving beneficial to me as they continue to whisper amongst themselves in Russian. I think they may even believe they’re convincing me that they don’t speak much English.
The senior partners of RK Capital Group know who I’m negotiating with, though they may not know I’m aware of these Russians’ more nefarious operations. They’ve given me the go-ahead to agree to a merger with an eventual acquisition, but only for the right price. A price to the tune of twenty billion dollars. Considering an investment firm like Goldman Sachs is worth nearly one-hundred-and-twenty billion dollars, my clients’ asking price appears reasonable.
“Mr. Yakovitch, I shall stop you now.” I raise my left hand, pen caught between my index and middle fingers. When I have his attention, I lean back in my chair and casually twirl the pen over my index finger and thumb. “Fifty billion is my clients’ asking price. You know that. Your clients know that. RK doesn’t oppose the merger. What they oppose is the insulting offer you’ve made. It’s nearly noon, and I’m hungry, Mr. Yakovitch. I have a delicious ham sandwich waiting for me. I even have three chocolate chip cookies waiting for me. If we aren’t going to make any progress, I shall let you go, so I can move onto my eagerly anticipated lunch.”

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Careful how you lie: book review

A gripping and pacey thriller that will keep you on the edge of your seat from the moment you turn the first page. The perfect read for fans of Martina Cole.

So, I am not really a fan of Martina Cole but this story on the other hand… I was gripped by the complex and involved plot and how the emotions of the lead dectective were protrayed as her background become visible to the reader, and then to her colleagues.

there is just one thing, why are all the femal detectives protrayed in novels angst ridden? Why can’t they be nice with simple and homely, interesting but in a good way, well adjusted, happy even, and members of a police ut=nit where people get along. I know that this would be a different genre but….

Despite this minor complaint, the book is fast paced and gritty and should appeal to those who like their crime to be set in urban surroundings.

Now. A point of information. there is in the book a brief discussion of ducks and their sex life – so go see www.news.com.au which is a serious study of ducks and how they procreate. And not forgetting that female ducks can be quite promiscuous around mating time – they will sometimes choose multiple partners in order to receive the best genetic material. Hence you can see duck mums with a brood of many different colours, or even species, ducklings. Ducks (and many birds truth) are far from monogamous, it is all about obtaining the best and, hopefully, the strongest genes for your children. So, if one duck can be superseded by another, Mrs Duck will happily participate!

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A Frosty Chase… Book Review

This an FBI thriller/suspense story.

"An easy, breezy page-turner filled with will-they-or-won’t-they romantic anticipation along with corporate crime drama suspense....a fast-paced, witty, contemporarily relevant romance novel."

Whilst I quite liked the storyline I was not so enthused  by the characters and their descriptions. I thought that Chase came out as a better described character than Sophie. But overall, neither character came across sharply.

My overall impression of the writing was that it was rather 'doughy' in style - sticky and and bit soft - needed to be sharpened up.


Chasing Frost, the fifth book in the West Side series, is a steamy, enemies-to-lovers, sometimes funny, sometimes suspenseful, contemporary romance featuring a smart, dedicated heroine and the sexy bad boy who steals her heart. The standalone series of contemporary romance novels can be read in any order.

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Shifting and Dying? Book Blitz

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Detective Darby Adler is about to hand in her badge…

⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣The fourth book in the Grave Talker series is here!

Excerpt

There should be a rule in the universe somewhere that said if someone—namely, me—had already dealt with enough shit, then no one could bother said someone for at least twenty-four hours.

Or maybe forty-eight.

A case could be made for seventy-two as well.

But since such a rule did not exist—at least in this universe—I was stuck with my ass on the grass, staring at a bullshit note and wishing I could explode the sender’s brain with my mind. Exploding a brain couldn’t be too far outside my new scope of abilities. I’d twisted the heads off a group of ghouls’ shoulders a few days ago with no more than a flick of my fingers. Making one measly brain go poof should be child’s play, right?

If only.

Though, with my teeth rattling around in my head from the ground shaking beneath my feet, I figured maybe, just maybe, my new abilities may not be a good thing. I mean, the wind whipping through the church could possibly have been a fluke, but the ground shaking like a goddamn maraca?

Probably not.

Still, I couldn’t peel my eyes from that note to save my life, and more? I didn’t want to.

Azrael lied to you. Killian isn’t where you think he is.

Come find me when you’re ready for the truth.

—Essex

The man who I’d called “Father” my whole life was in the ground right now, his body moldering in his casket, and the man who’d set it all into motion had the nerve to pick at the bloody scab that was my wounded heart.

I reached for that stupid note, ready to set it on fire or crumble it up, or something, anything but let it lie in the grass where my dad had been put to rest. A hard hand knocked my fingers away before they could make contact, startling me right out of my ill-conceived plan. My sister stared at me like I’d grown a whole new head—and for good reason. A few months ago, she’d gotten a similar note from our brother, one that would have killed her had she not been utterly and totally dead already.

“Are you okay?” Sloane asked, rolling her eyes at herself as she did so. She’d asked me that same question quite a lot over the last few days, and each time she seemed to curse herself.

I cradled the hand she’d smacked against my chest as I inspected her features—ones that seemed to flicker every couple of seconds from regular Sloane to one so fucking frightening it was a wonder I wasn’t running away screaming.

Poker face, don’t fail me now.

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Author:

Annie - Shifting and Dying? Book Blitz

Annie Anderson is a military wife and United States Air Force veteran. Originally from Dallas, Texas, she is a southern girl at heart, but has lived all over the US and abroad. As soon as the military stops moving her family around, she’ll settle on a state, but for now she enjoys being a nomad with her husband, two daughters, an old man of a dog, and a young pup that makes life… interesting.

Author links:
https://www.annieande.com/
https://twitter.com/annieande
https://www.instagram.com/annieande/
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAnnieAnderson
https://www.pinterest.ca/AnnieAnde/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6108766.Annie_Anderson

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Supernatural Law: Book Blitz

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If you love Richelle Mead, Lisa Edmonds, or Seanan McGuire, discover a paranormal mystery series complete with a fierce heroine that will have you begging for the next book!

Excerpt:

I stole a glance at the two humans waiting with me at the coffee kiosk and stifled a groan. If I had my way, I’d make PDAs before six a.m. a first-degree misdemeanor. 

Quite a hill to die on, huh? Of course, I’d have to leave the D.A.’s office and run for Congress first, but the pithy single-platform campaign slogans wrote themselves: Elect Lillian Knight and Make Singles Jogging Safe Again. Stop Criminal Canoodling. Think of the children—and have mercy on the celibate-by-choice cambion lurking uncomfortably behind you in the coffee line.

Alas, even a half-demon like me didn’t have that kind of power. And my powers of glaring didn’t stop the middle-aged couple in the cafe’s outdoor waiting area from mooning over each other.

I wrapped my arms around myself and set my jaw. This early on a dreary weekday morning, I should have had the park to myself, free from lovestruck tourists and their sloppy, tantalizing energy. And yet, here stood these two grown adults in their puffy jackets, snuggling together like teenagers and harshing the living hell out of my happy place. 

Maybe I didn’t need a caffeine fix before my run. Never mind the biting Pacific gusts blowing off the choppy gray waves of the strait, the thick fog blanketing the rust-orange span of the Golden Gate Bridge, or the gritty haze that clouded my brain after another sleepless night. 

I could live with all of that. San Francisco’s fog couldn’t rival the Pennsylvania winters I’d grown up with, even after eight years of acclimation. Insomnia and I had an intimate, long-term relationship. And the cold didn’t get under my demon-tough skin like the two walking heart-eye emojis in front of me.

I licked my lips and slapped my change on the counter. Oblivious to my jonesing, the lovebirds entwined their hands and leaned into each other, a bulwark of two against the chill. I turned away, but their mutual desire thrummed in the air around me like a pair of plucked guitar strings tuned to one another. Its sweetness settled, thick and cloying, at the back of my throat.

Damn my succubus senses. They didn’t help anything, and they never knew when to quit. 

The synesthetic song of the human couple’s desiderata—the energy of their deep-seated needs and desires—didn’t hold any secrets simple human perception would have missed. Still, their two-part harmony tugged at me. I’d have given a limb, maybe two, to turn it off at will, but no one was buying. Swallowing hard, I grasped at straws: stocks, sports, anything unsexy and boring. The Giants had done well this season, right? 

No good. The desiderata behind me hummed all the louder, a tangible vibration running up my spine like a live wire. I risked another peek over my shoulder and winced. The man had bent toward the woman, the breeze ruffling his salt-and-pepper hair. She tilted her head up, lips parted, face aglow, ready for his kiss.

“Screw this,” I muttered, and broke into a run. 

The barista’s call floated after me. “Quad cappuccino for Lily?” 

I didn’t stop. Bye bye, six hard-earned dollars I paid for the abandoned drink. Too bad, so sad for my wallet, but it wasn’t worth the cost to my peace of mind and my succubus sobriety. 

The rhythm of my sneakers on the hard-packed earth of the upper trail beat out a staccato counterpoint to the hiss of the surf and the blood pounding in my ears. About halfway into the grove of cypress and eucalyptus that lined the trail, I hit my stride. The trees blurred into a gray-green smear on either side of me, and the siren call of human desiderata faded away.

And then I tripped over something heavy and dense that lay across the trail and went sprawling face-first into the dirt.

The wind knocked out of me, I lay still for a few seconds, tonguing my split and swelling lip. It leaked a coppery tang tainted with bitter earth into my mouth. My palms stung where I’d flung them out to catch my fall.

I rolled over and the gray sky wheeled above me in a dizzy lurch. Damn it, had I hit my head? A concussion would make this a real banner week. I could heal faster than humans did, but to recover from a serious injury, I would need more than strong coffee. I would have to break a vow I’d made to myself and take kether—human life force, the fuel my powers depended on, transferred by touch and emotional connection from their bodies to mine.

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AUTHOR BIO:

Erin Fulmer is a life-long writer, real-life social justice warrior (i.e. legal services lawyer), politics junkie, and general bookworm. She lives in sunny California with her husband and two demanding cat daughters. She is currently at work on the sequel to her forthcoming debut urban fantasy, CAMBION’S LAW (11/9/2021, City Owl Press).

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Author links:

https://erinfulmer.com/

https://www.facebook.com/ErinFulmerWrites/

https://www.instagram.com/erinfulmerwrites/

https://www.pinterest.ca/Erin_Fulmer/

https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/f6f1v7

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21424174.Erin_Fulmer

To Purchase:

iBooks: https://books.apple.com/es/book/cambions-law/id1580257882

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/cambion-s-law

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